


Service Position

by dedkake



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Ableism, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Class Differences, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-31 10:46:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1030781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedkake/pseuds/dedkake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik, heir to Lord Shaw, hires on a new valet.  Shaw does not approve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Service Position

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this kink meme prompt](http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/9701.html?thread=22188517#t22188517), which already has an amazing fill and sequel (go read them now!!). Also loosely based on Downton Abbey because reasons.

_Charles’ fingers are hot on Erik’s back, pushing, pulling, kneading him into position. It’s different from before, but Erik soaks up every touch, still half convinced that it’s a dream, that these hands are gone from the world entirely—still half-believing that Charles is dead._

“Is it true, what they’re saying in town?” Shaw asks, spinning his glass of whisky on the table. He already knows the answer and has obviously made his judgment on it—Erik can tell by the way he’s pitched his voice, low and sour.

Pushing his own glass away on the table, Erik leans back in his chair, away from Shaw. There are a number of ways he can answer, but ignorance is the best way to save face where Shaw is concerned. “What are they saying now?” he asks, keeping his arms loose and open. Shaw has no idea what he’s stepping into.

_“People will talk,” Charles says, his voice rough with desire and layered thick with emotion. “They won’t like it.”_

_Erik moans and collapses forward across Charles’ legs as Charles’ finger slips into him. “Let them talk,” he manages to say before Charles sinks his teeth into the flesh of Erik’s ass._

The look that passes over Shaw’s face is entirely unimpressed. “They say that you’ve hired on a crippled valet,” he says evenly, eyes locked onto Erik for any sort of reaction, anything that he can use to his advantage, but Erik refuses to give him anything.

Swallowing his sneer, he somehow manages to hold Shaw’s gaze without flinching. “We served in the war together. He sent me a letter recently looking for a position,” he says, and it’s true. He still has the letter tucked away in the drawer by his bed, folded neatly alongside the letters his mother had sent to him on the front. “Surely no one could find fault in that.”

_Charles shifts beneath Erik, his fingers tight on Erik’s hip and his breath cool against Erik’s skin as he hisses in discomfort. Erik freezes, unsure of how to proceed, but Charles is relaxing in a moment, running his hand apologetically down Erik’s thigh. “Their talk might have some truth to it,” he murmurs, his tone oddly distant._

_Pulling away gently, gasping softly as Charles’ finger is drawn out of him, Erik turns to lean over Charles so they are face to face where Charles is propped up against the headboard. “Look at me,” he breathes, reaching out to cup Charles’ cheek in his hand. “I want you here. That’s all that matters.”_

Shaw’s eyes narrow and he buys himself a moment to think with another sip of whisky. “I only wonder if you aren’t doing him a disservice,” he says, leaning back in his seat.

“By giving him a job when no one else will?” Erik snaps, unable to stop himself from giving in to Shaw’s absurdity. They’re both well aware of the meager options wounded soldiers have for employment—the whole world is aware at this point.

_Charles smirks up at Erik, dragging his tongue slowly, deliberately, along his lip. “Not to sound ungrateful,” he says, sincerity hidden behind his amusement, “but I think you mean that you_ need _me here.” He finishes with a hard pinch to Erik’s thigh that has Erik shivering all over._

_Trying not to whine, Erik grabs Charles’ hand and draws it back to his still aching cock, moaning softly as Charles gives him a few perfect tugs._

_“See?” Charles says into Erik’s ear. “You need me right here.”_

There had been a time when Erik hadn’t even wanted a valet, and now he can think of no one he would want more for the job—he hopes that Shaw has not noticed. A smile pulls at the corner of Shaw’s mouth and Erik’s stomach twists. “Certainly not. By putting him in a position he cannot fill, you’ve set him up for failure,” he says, his tone mildly condescending.

Leaning in again, unable to keep the anger from his face any longer, Erik says, “I should be the one to judge the effectiveness of my staff, not the town. Not you. He’s performed his duties just fine so far. I have no complaints and neither does he, or any of the rest of my staff.”

_Charles is humming something that Erik doesn’t recognize, pulling at Erik’s cock in a steady rhythm as Erik braces himself on the headboard, one hand on either side of Charles’ face. “Why don’t you turn around, darling,” Charles murmurs, letting go and swatting Erik’s hip lightly. “You always look best with your ass in the air.”_

_“Just like that,” he continues, his voice quiet and awed. He doesn’t wait a moment for Erik to finish adjusting, spreading Erik’s cheeks with his thumbs and licking him from his balls to the base of his spine in one, quick stripe. Erik falls forward once more, burying his moan in the sheets between Charles’ legs, mindful still of Charles’ stiff left leg._

“Oh?” Shaw asks, somehow amused. “How can you hope to run an effective house with a cripple on your staff? Can he serve a table with that cane of his? Can he move about with any urgency? Can he even lift your bags?”

Counting to ten, Erik tries to control his fury. “I have enough money to hire another man,” he says when he feels he can speak without shouting. “The town should be pleased that I am providing more job opportunities through the division of labor.”

_A rumbling chuckle builds in Charles’ chest, but Erik can’t gather the energy to turn to see it on his face as Charles’ tongue dives into his hole. “I’m going to have to lock you in here,” Erik grunts when he manages to catch his breath. “I won’t be able to focus on anything with you going about the house.”_

_“Oh, I don’t think so,” Charles says, and Erik can’t help pushing back, trying to find his tongue once more. “Then you’d have to hire more men and increase the risk of someone finding out.” He punctuates this last thought with a few strokes to Erik’s cock._

Shaw’s smile is sickly sweet. “I only ask you to think of the man’s dignity, Erik. Surely all men should be able to find employment in positions that they are able to fill completely.”

Erik snaps, pushing himself to his feet in anger. “I may be your heir, Shaw, but my house is mine to manage,” he says, voice thick with the rage he’s trying to contain. Swallowing back another outburst, he manages to recapture some composure to add, “You need not worry about my valet when you have so many other, more pressing matters to attend to.”

_The noise that catches in Erik’s throat when Charles pushes his tongue back into him is anything but dignified. “Charles,” he gasps, shivering as Charles hums acknowledgment. “I need you in me now.”_

_Charles moves fast, pulling Erik up and around again, so he’s leaning over Charles’ once more. “Are you ready?” he asks, but doesn’t give Erik a chance to respond before he’s pushing Erik down onto his cock._

Everything in Shaw’s demeanor shifts as he looks up at Erik coolly, his eyes hard and commanding. “We have an image to maintain, Erik. You’d best remember it.”

_Erik’s not used to doing the work in bed with Charles, but he finds it empowering now, moving himself over Charles, watching as Charles’ head falls back, his mouth open and spilling senseless praises. “You’re gorgeous,” Charles says after a moment, his fingers tight on Erik’s waist. “I’ve missed you so much.”_

Erik holds Shaw’s gaze for as long as he can, hoping to convey his distaste for the threat, before he turns away, pushing his chair back into the table with more force than necessary. “It’s rather late. I’d best return home if I’m to be back here in the morning to entertain your guests.”

_They come together, lips almost touching as they lean in to each other and Erik collapses over Charles, no longer able to hold himself up. The moment stretches on, and Erik lets his mind wander to the beat of Charles’ breathing, in no hurry to move._

“Of course,” Shaw says blandly, standing up as well and offering his hand to Erik. It’s a pleasantry that feels like giving in, but Erik takes it out of courtesy before turning to leave. He wants to escape before Shaw can call his butler or the driver, someone who will come between him and home.

_Eventually, Charles nudges him with his right knee, his left leg still tense beneath Erik. “Go to your uncle, Erik,” Charles murmurs into Erik’s neck, his breath hot. “I don’t plan on leaving this bed until you get back.”_


End file.
